


Whispers of Glory at the Galleria Mall

by allglitter



Category: 6teen (Cartoon)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anonymous Sex, Bathroom Sex, Bathrooms, Blow Jobs, Canon Related, Come Swallowing, Complete, Gay Sex, Glory Hole, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Bathroom, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Public Blow Jobs, Public Hand Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Shopping Malls, Two Shot, Undressing, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:22:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25577260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allglitter/pseuds/allglitter
Summary: Jonesy has barely put in any time as a junior Rent-a-Cop at the mall when Ron asks him to investigate a rumour of unsavoury things going down in the Men's Loathsome Washrooms. What will Jonesy find there, and who could be on the other side of glory?Based on the Season One Episode "The Slow and the Even Tempered" where Jonesy works for Ron the Rent-a-Cop.
Relationships: Jude Lizowski/Jonesy Garcia
Comments: 10
Kudos: 51





	1. Whispers of GL( )RY

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All Major Characters Depicted in This Work of Fiction are Over the Age of 18.

Jonesy rested his feet up on the desk of the Rent-a-Cop offices. He tapped the toe of his shoes against the side of one of the many security monitors piled on top of the desk next to the Tim Hortons timbit crumbs and piles of disorganized reports. On the monitors the entire mall was displayed. Every shopper going about their day. All the people stuffing their faces in the food court. The people screaming their guts out in the amusement park. Jonesy could see them all. 

At first it was kind of exciting to watch; he felt powerful almost, being able to see everyone laid bare like this. He used to make a game out of catching shoppers doing something embarrassing when they thought no one was looking. But now? Now it was all kind of boring to him if he was honest. There was no surprise to it, nothing to catch him off guard. He knew everything happening in the mall and everyone who was doing it. Figures the one job he was actually enjoying would get just as tedious as all the others.

He looked down at his feet resting on top of reports he was supposed to be filling out. No one had told him that so much of this job would just be fucking paperwork either. Every minor incident no matter how mundane needed to be written up and recorded for the higher ups at the Mall. Jonesy wouldn’t have minded it if he was actually writing about something interesting like a theft or a shoot out or public nudity or _something_ , but in reality most of the reports currently getting scuffed up by the heel of his shoes were for shit like loitering and littering. It just didn’t _mean_ anything. Was he really going to spend all his afternoons getting hand cramps because some old fogy sat on a bench for too long?

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Ron the Rent-a-Cop heading toward him on the monitors. He shot straight up in his chair and haphazardly tried straightening up the papers he messed up, brushed crumbs onto the floor, and pretended to have been working hard. At this point, having had as many jobs as he had, he was pretty good at it all considered. If there was one thing Jonesy was, it was great at appearing busy. When he cared enough to, anyway.

The bell above the door chimed and in stepped Ron. He scanned the room from left to right behind narrow eyes before fixating back on Jonesy in the center. Jonesy shot him a, probably too, timid smile. Their relationship had certainly improved a lot since Jonesy took the job—he never thought for a second a couple weeks ago that he’d be laughing with Ron as they pranked delinquents in the mall and talked and joked over the walkie-talkies like a bunch of army bros—but it was clear even now that Jonesy’s past history as a troublemaker still left a sour note in their relationship. He could tell that Ron still didn’t trust him fully. Mostly because Ron frequently told him so.

“How’s it goin’, Smokey,” Jonesy said a little too eagerly. “Just workin' on these reports before I do my rounds again.”

“Got some recon for you, Hound Dog,” Ron said. “Word on the street is that there is something unsavoury going down in the Food Court washrooms. I need you to get to the bottom of it.”

“Unsavoury? What do you mean?”

“Something of a… _sexual nature_.”

Jonesy’s eyes widened. What? Something sexual going down in this mall? And he wasn’t a part of it? What the fuck? Was that even allowed?

“Well, uh,” he stammered. “Why don’t we just watch the cameras?” He pointed his thumb back behind his shoulder at the pile of monitors buzzing on the desk.

“No good, soldier. The cameras outside the Food Court washrooms haven’t worked since The Incident of ‘97.”

“ _What?!_ ” 

Jonesy flipped around in his chair and stared hard at the monitors. Holy shit. He was right. The camera outside the washrooms was stuck on a static image. Even the date counter in the corner still read 1997. No one going in or out. Not even walking into frame. How had he never noticed it before?

“Why not get it fixed?” he asked, still unable to take his focus off the stationary image.

“That’s classified.”

Jonesy glanced back at Ron with a look that so clearly regarded what he had just said to be complete and absolute bullshit that it took Ron aback.

“…budget cuts,” he said stiffly, his cheeks a little red. Ron coughed and walked over to his desk. “The point is, soldier, it’s _your_ mission to find out what’s going on. You need to be Mall Security’s eyes and ears in the trenches.” He smacked his palms down on the desk for emphasis. “Sniff out the culprit, and round them up.”

Jonesy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, alright.” He started to gather what few things he had as Ron sat down at his desk. Once he pocketed his notebook and pen, he popped one last timbit in his mouth and headed for the door. Halfway out the room, his hand still on the doorknob, a chill ran down his spine when Ron spoke.

“And Jonesy…” Ron sat up in his chair, his back a straight board. His eyes narrowed as he regarded his young partner. “If you don’t bring these delinquents to justice, don’t bother coming back at all.”

* * *

_“Man, this sucks!”_

Jonesy groaned as he leaned back in his chair outside the Lemon. He had just finished catching Wyatt and Jude up about his assignment. “Ron says if I don’t come back with a culprit he’s going to fire me! God, I’m starting to wonder if this job is even worth it anymore.”

“Why? Because you might have to actually _work_ at your _job_?” Wyatt replied. “Newsflash Jonesy, but we all have parts of our job that we don’t like. What did you think was going to happen?”

“I don’t know!” he yelled before slumping forward in his chair and resting his face in his hands. He mumbled something into his palms and the other guys just shot each other a look.

“We can’t hear you, dude,” Jude said.

“I thought it’d just be the awesome, like, powerful shit,” Jonesy said after finally sitting up. “Messing with people with Ron and getting free food and, y'know, just, like”—he drew little circles on the table with his finger—“y’know, ruling the Mall.” He knew he sounded silly or immature or _whatever_ but it was true. For a brief moment it was one of the best jobs he’s ever had. “Now it’s mostly just paperwork and… whatever the hell this assignment is?”

“That wasn’t a realistic expectation to begin with, Jonesy,” Wyatt replied before taking a pointed sip of his coffee.

Jonesy threw his hands up. “It was like that for a while!”

Jude shrugged. “Maybe you should just quit, dude. You could always just hang with me at Stick-It.”

“Nah, man. I’m just… being dumb. I need this job and it’s honestly not that bad. I just… I don’t even know where to begin with this stupid mission. How am I supposed to solve a rumour?”

“True, you are a little more Paul Blart than Sherlock Holmes when it comes to this stuff,” Wyatt said.

“Dude take that back, I am _not_ fat.”

Wyatt rolled his eyes. “Well maybe we can help you. What was the rumour again?”

“Just that there was something ‘unsavoury’ happening in the Food Court washrooms?”

“The Loathsome Washrooms?” Wyatt asked. “Like the ones right over there?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm… yeah I’d buy that. Those washrooms are disgusting. I would not be surprised at all about whatever kind of messed up shit happens there.” 

“What about you, Jude? Have you heard anything?” Jonesy asked.

Jude shifted in his chair. “Mmmm not really, bro? That _is_ where my dealer and I meet to make the old exchange though so I could totally see other shady stuff goin’ down there, too.”

“ _That’s_ where you get your pot?” Wyatt said, his arms stretched out in disbelief. “Why not just go to The Giving Tree? It’s legal.”

“Discount, maaan,” Jude said with a smile that was all too proud. “I barter for it. Saves me moolah I can then spend on scoring some sweet grindage.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Jonesy replied with a grin. He extended a fist across the table to Jude who reciprocated with a fist bump and their secret handshake.

“You guys are hopeless.” Wyatt sighed with resignation. He let out a small laugh, an eye roll, and took another sip of his coffee. “Well, what are you going to do, Jonesy?”

“I don’t know. Could just sit here and watch and see if anything happens?”

“Is that really the best use of your time? Doesn’t Ron expect you to solve this before the mall closes? What if nothing happens? It’s not like you can just hang out in there and expect to catch anyone. As gross as it is, a lot of people _do_ legitimately use the washroom if they’re desperate.”

“Hey, man, if you’re so smart feel free to chime in with a suggestion. I’m aaaall ears.”

Wyatt thought about it for a moment. “I guess you could ask around?”

“ _That’s_ your brilliant suggestion?”

“I mean, there isn’t much else for you to do. It’s a big mall, someone has to know something about this rumour if Ron’s heard of it.”

“I guess.” Jonesy rolled his eyes. The last thing he wanted to do was go around asking strangers if they’ve heard rumours of weird sex stuff happening in the bathrooms. Was this really what Ron expected him to do? There had to be a cooler option, like a stakeout or spy equipment or disguises or _something_.

Jude shoved off from the table and got to his feet. “Later, dudes. Good luck with the hunt, man.”

“Where are you headed?” Wyatt asked.

“Gotta get back to work. Almost Stick It closing time.”

Jonesy shot up. “What? God, what time is it?”

“Like seven, dude,” Jude said.

“Shit. There’s only like three hours left in my shift and I haven’t done anything.” Jonesy began to panic. He’d have to hurry if he’d want to cover enough ground to give him a good enough shot at solving this stupid thing before the mall closed. “I better run, too.” 

He mentally made a map of the route he’d take through the mall as he headed out of the food court. If he was quick he could hit a lot of the major stores within an hour or two. It didn’t leave him much time, but he could do this, right? He could do this.

* * *

This was hopeless.

He wasn’t getting anywhere by asking random people about the Loathsome Washroom rumours. Most either had nothing to say about it at all, or worse thought he was some pervert trying to proposition them into something unsavoury. Time was running out and he had nothing to show for his efforts. It started to look like it wouldn’t matter either way if he actually found out what was going on because there was no way he wasn’t going to be fired by the end of the day. Figures.

Defeated, he entered the Khaki Barn where Nikki was reading a magazine up at the till. She looked up at him with a smirk. “Hey if it isn’t the Bacon Bit.”

“Har har,” he replied sarcastically before leaning against the counter.

“What’s eating you?”

“Oh, you know, probably just going to get fired. Again.”

“I mean that’s pretty normal for you.” She flipped a page in the magazine, content to largely ignore his dramatic ass but stopped when she saw his face. “You’re really upset about this, huh?”

“I don’t know. I like the job. It’s easy. Sometimes it’s even fun. I dunno.” He looked over his shoulder at her. “I guess I just felt like it was something I was good at for once? But now I don’t know. I’m not getting anywhere with this stupid rumour.”

“Oh the Loathsome Washroom thing? Whoa easy, I don’t know anything,” she said as soon as she saw the look he gave her. _Way_ too hopeful. “Caitlin heard you talking to the guys at the Lemon and texted me about it, that’s all.”

Jonesy sighed. “I’ve been all over the mall asking people about it and got nothing.” He shook his head. “Did get threatened with pepper spray like three times though.”

“Huh,” Nikki said with a smile. “I don’t think I’d hesitate to spray you if you came up to me unprompted to ask about sex shit in the grossest bathrooms in the mall.”

“Well thank god my natural charisma saved me,” Jonesy said, puffing out his chest and flashing a trademark grin. Just as soon as the bravado had appeared it dissipated like a balloon leaking air. “This sucks.”

Nikki considered his sad ass for a moment. She shut the magazine. “Alright, I’ll help you.”

“What, you will? But you never want to do work.”

“I still don’t, but I can’t help it when you look that pathetic.” She smiled. “Now, what was the rumour again, just so I know everything?”

“Honestly? It’s just that _something_ sexual is going down in the Loathsome Washrooms. That’s it. That’s my whole lead that Ron expects me t—.”

“Okay, okay. How ‘bout this, I’ll ask—” She paused to groan. “—ugh, I’ll ask the Clones.”

“Wow, you must really like me, eh?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I just want to get back to reading my magazine in peace, Bacon Bit.”

Jonesy laughed. “I’ll take it. You really think the Clones will know something?”

“Listen, if there’s anyone in this mall hooked up into the rumour mill more than the Clones, I sure as fuck don’t want to meet them. Hang tight, I’ll go ask.”

Jonesy watched her go brave the Clones before leaning back over the counter to grab her magazine. He flipped through it, mostly paying attention to the swimsuit ads and skipping anything with text. There was a perfume sample he took the time to scratch and sniff. Awful.

He checked his watch. Only about an hour and half left before the mall closed. Whatever lead Nikki would be able to get from the Clones—if any—it was his last real chance to figure this thing out and hopefully save his job. Jonesy was practically shaking by the time Nikki got back to him.

“It’s not much,” she said to cushion the blow. “But they did have something.”

“It’s more than what I got. What did they say?”

“They said the other day Kyle was in here shopping with a couple of bros.”

“Kyle? You mean Dirty Donaldson?”

“One in the same. Anyway, they didn’t hear _everything_ he was saying, but apparently he went on and on about the Loathsome Washrooms to his _bros_. There’s something about the broken stall in there. I don’t know if it’s a stash of dirty magazines or what, but that’s all I got.”

“Wow, okay. So… what does that mean? What should I do? Should I try and find Kyle? See if he’s at the mall.”

“I think you gotta just go search the broken stall and see if you can find anything. You don’t have a lot of time left before the mall closes and who knows if Kyle is even here today.”

“You’re right. You’re right. Okay, I’m gonna go. Ahhh. I’m like full of adrenaline now.”

“It’s still just a crappy bathroom, Jonesy.” Nikki laughed. “But whatever gets you out of here so I can get back to work.”

He thought about making a snide comment about her work ethic, but hell, who was he to talk? Plus, she did just totally save his ass. “Thanks, Nikki. I owe you one.”

“Yeah, I’d say your tab is way overdue at this point, pal.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” he promised. “One day, maybe! Gotta go!”

And booked it out the door.

* * *

The Loathsome Washrooms were so named because of their consistent state of disrepair and uncleanliness. Jonesy and his friends were no stranger to them: it was often the place they came up with pranks or terrible schemes. Sometimes they simply used the washrooms because they knew they would be deserted, and private. He had no idea that there had likely been something questionable going on in them all this time, hidden behind the broken stall no one bothered to ever check. Walking in there now, his hand at the ready on the flashlight in his uniform’s holster, it was like seeing the washrooms for the first time, now that he actually paid attention.

He quickly glanced around the room. “Is anyone in here? Mall Security,” Jonesy called out. Nothing. The room practically echoed his voice back to him; it was that barren. “Okay,” he said to himself as he stepped forward.

The center of the bathroom had two large washfountains and soap dispensers. Half the spouts on the fountain never seemed to work, or if they did, they shot water out at odd angles like a shower faucet with too much calcium build up. The soap was nothing to write home about, half the time there wasn’t even any in there. They were well towards the end of the school year and the soap was still the same Christmas scented one the Mall uses in winter.

To the right of the washfountains were three large scummed up mirrors that covered most of the wall. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually bothered to look into them. Staring at them now, he wondered if they could secretly be one-way glass, but he dismissed this idea when he tried taking one off their mount and nearly broke it. No dastardly plot by the Mall Head Offices, just the same ugly yellow-brown wall behind the glass. Which left… the stalls.

There were six regular sized stalls along the back wall, as well as one handicap stall in the right corner. Beside the stalls on the left-hand side were two urinals. The leftmost stall was used more as a janitor’s closet since the toilet inside it broke and was removed. It was almost always locked, but through the crack you could see stuff like cleaning products and a bunch of mops and brooms. The broken stall, that he must have passed by a hundred times and never thought anything of, was the stall second from the left. The door was broken off one hinge, precariously slanted diagonally across the stall’s entrance. Whatever he was looking for had to be in there, there was nowhere else to check.

Carefully he lifted the door up off the ground and maneuvered his way around it and into the stall. He set the door back down behind him to try and get as much room as possible inside to look around in. Jonesy was shocked. It was actually one of the cleaner toilets in the washroom. Probably because it was never really used. There wasn’t even the same amount of vandalism scrawled on the walls as the other ones. Weird.

He searched around the base of the toilet and behind it but there was nothing. No dirty magazines stashed away. No baggies full of drugs. No secret stash of weapons. Nothing. Jonesy flicked on his flashlight and shined it on the wall behind the toilet. Perhaps they had carved a hole into the wall to smuggle things. But the wall was untouched. Everything seemed perfectly normal.

Jonesy scratched his cheek with the back of the flashlight. There had to be something he was missing. After everything, the idea that there was no truth to the rumour at all was unacceptable. Maybe the tank? He rested the flashlight down on the empty toilet paper dispenser affixed to the wall of the stall. Carefully he lifted the porcelain lid of the tank off the toilet and set it down on the seat. Picking up the flashlight once more, he shone the light into the water. But there was nothing. Just a whole lot of built up sediment from not being maintenanced. The tank, too, was bereft of secret stashes or plastic baggies of lewd Polaroids or _anything_.

“What the fuuuuck,” Jonesy groaned. 

He replaced the lid on the tank and sat down on the toilet seat. His elbows propped on his knees, head in his hands, he wracked his brain for possibilities. Should he abandon the washroom and maybe see if he could track down Kyle after all? Would Ron accept that there was no truth to the rumour? He had a hard time seeing it. Ron would probably just think Jonesy was making it up to cover up not doing the work. But he did the work! He was here in this gross bathroom with nothing to show for it.

Jonesy dragged his hands down his face, pulling down his cheeks slightly, as he let out another groan. That’s when he noticed it out of the corner of his eye. Near the bottom corner of the toilet paper dispenser something was scrawled in black sharpie.

⇧  
H E A V E N

It read, with an arrow pointing up toward the dispenser. It was just small enough and positioned just so that it would only be seen by someone sitting down on the toilet, and never visible by someone at the stall’s entrance. He couldn’t believe it.

Jonesy jumped to his feet and inspected the dispenser. Gripping it with one hand on each side, he gave it a little shake and was shocked when it came loose from the wall with little effort. He set it down above the toilet, on top of the tank lid, and turned around to see what he had revealed.

Behind the dispenser a large hole had been carved into the wall dividing the stalls. Sharpie arrows encircled the hole pointing towards it. Jonesy knelt down to get a better look and found that the other side was blocked by something smooth and shiny. He grabbed his flashlight and stuck it through the hole, knocking loose a flyer that had been covering the hole on the other side. It swished below the stall divider and rested on his side. It was a simple laminated piece of paper detailing proper cleaning procedure.

It dawned on him then that someone had put up the flyer in the other stall, the one that had been converted into something of a maintenance closet, to hide the hole from that side to anyone who looked in. He stood up and became intimately aware that the gap in the wall was perfectly positioned at the level of his crotch.

“It’s a fucking glory hole,” Jonesy said aloud, astonished. _That_ was what the unsavoury rumour was about. What Kyle was chatting to his bros about. How long had this been flying under the radar, only known about through whispers and locker room talk? Who made it? Did someone operate it, stake it out to fulfill strangers’ needs, or was it a free-for-all? 

Jonesy couldn’t believe it. Well, one, he couldn’t believe he actually solved the case. He had very little faith in himself. But more than that, he couldn’t believe glory holes were actually _real_. Of course he’d seen some of the vids, but he always assumed it was something they invented for porn. Never would he imagine actually finding one in his real life. 

He could feel something stir within him as he gazed down at it. There was duct-tape all around the edge of the hole, likely to smooth out any sharp edges from whatever they used to make it in the first place. Tracing his finger around the edge, he wondered how many dudes had done this before. It was soft enough, cool to the touch, inviting, almost. Instinctively he gripped his junk; he could feel himself get harder beneath the fabric of his pants the more he ran his finger around the glory hole’s entrance. 

And then, curiosity overcame him.

While rubbing his bulge, he stood on his tip-toes and glanced around the room, even though he was positive he was alone. Satisfied, he turned back to the hole and unzipped his pants. He told himself it didn’t make sense, as he pulled his dick out through the fly of his boxers and then his pants. After all, he was the only one there. Nothing would happen, he thought as he stroked his now exposed cock in the cool air of the washroom. But he just had to know what it would be like, even a little. And so, he lined himself up with the hole, and threaded the needle.

Thankfully the hole accommodated his size. He grimaced at the thought of what it would have felt like to realize the hole was too small halfway through, especially with the overzealous thrust he had done when he entered. But he had done it. He stuck his dick in a glory hole. He could check that entry off a list he never knew he had. 

It was a strange feeling, pressed so close to the wall, knowing he was totally exposed on the other side. It felt silly, too, of course, doing this knowing he was alone. He almost expected a group of teens to jump out and laugh at him, like it had all been a big prank to see if he would actually do it. But there was something else about it, too. That, even though he knew he must have looked like an idiot, there was something about the mere act that was turning him on more than he ever would have thought. A strange mix of vulnerability mixed with indecency mixed with anonymity and secrecy. _If only_ , he began to think. If only.

The door to the washroom opened and Jonesy froze.

He could feel the blood course through his veins with the frantic beating of his heart. He tried to listen for the stranger, for where they were moving or what they were doing, but he could hardly hear anything over his own heart. Jonesy strained and tried to catch a glimpse of them over the stall walls but he couldn’t see much of anything. Pull away, he kept trying to tell himself, back away from the hole, put it away, but he couldn’t. His mind was screaming at him to do something — you’re exposed! you’re going to get caught! — but none of it registered to his body, which stayed completely put. Instead he simply listened with heightened anxiety and tried to picture what the stranger could have been doing based on the scant few sounds he was able to pick up. A shuffle here. A footstep there. A ruffling through their pockets, maybe? If he was lucky, they’d piss and get out and wouldn’t even know he was ever there.

But then he heard it: the lock on the stall next to him jostled. The stranger was trying to unlock it. Did they know about the glory hole? Were they here for it, to service him? He started to panic, unsure of just how far he wanted his curiosity to go. 

Then, the lock clicked, and the stall door began to open. Soon the stranger would see his hard dick jutting forth. Naked. Presented. Vulnerable. _Vulnerable?_ Jonesy was struck by just how exposed he was. What if the stranger was just there to grab a mop or some cleaner and didn’t take too keenly to a stranger’s dick in their face? _What if they attacked him?_ Suddenly his mind filled with all sorts of horrible things someone could inflict on his dick. Hit it. Cut it. Burn it, maybe? 

_Fuck this_. His body finally began to move again and he started to hurriedly pull out, prepared to make a break for it. But then he felt it: warm, soft fingertips, gently pressing against what little of his shaft remained exposed on the other side. The fingers circled loosely around him, just below the head, carefully, as if not to scare him or cause him to yank back and hurt himself. It was… inviting.

Jonesy looked back toward the broken stall door and the washroom exit behind it. If he was going to leave, now would be the time to do it. He could get out of this scot-free and it would just be a funny story to tell his friends when they were all drunk: the time he stuck his dick in a glory hole for a laugh and almost got more than he bargained for. It’d kill, he was sure. His friends loved when he made an ass out of himself, after all. This whole thing could be just that, a funny joke, a small moment that got the better of him and nothing more. 

And yet, something compelled him. It was curiosity, yes, but it was also something more than that. The idea of just… relinquishing control. To submit himself to the unknown. To be _that_ vulnerable, to put his care literally in a stranger’s hands. It went against all of his natural instincts. He had always played things cool and been the one in power. All those times he hooked up with girls, he never felt like he was risking anything at all. The dynamic was always skewed in his favour, he made sure of it: never getting too invested, never letting his cocky persona falter, never exposing the very real beating heart inside him. It was safe. This, on the other hand, was risk. Pure risk.

But, nothing can truly be won, without a little risk, right?

Jonesy clenched his fist with resolve and stepped forward. He took a deep breath as he waited for a reaction from the other side. It wasn’t long before the stranger took his cock in their hand and began stroking it. His heart was still racing, and he could tell the stranger was likely going slow to start to ease him into all of this. It was an oddly tender notion, one he never would have expected, but he was glad for it. He tried his best to calm down, to relax and enjoy it, and took to taking in full breaths and releasing them slowly. 

He soon eased the tension in his body and tried his best to get lost in the feeling. There were so many things he could worry about: that the stranger could suddenly change tune and hurt him, that someone else could walk in and catch them or force them to stop, that they could even get in real trouble for it. Public indecency or whatever. But the more the stranger stroked him, and the more that warmth started to spread through his body, the less and less he cared about any of that. All he could find capacity to think and care about was this, and the truth was this felt _good_.

Without thinking, he started to buck his hips into their hand. He rested his forehead against the cool metal of the stall wall and peered down through half-closed eyes. Watched as his dick slid in and out of the hole, felt the slight friction of the stranger’s palm. Occasionally he saw the tiniest glimpse of their hand, but nothing to identify them beyond pale skin, but he really didn’t care anymore. In fact, he hoped he never knew. He simply continued to roll his hips into their hand, his breath hitching a bit in his throat every time.

The stranger wrapped their free hand loosely around his base and continued to stroke with the other. Jonesy bit his lip as they added a twist of the wrist with their movement. His hips smacked against the divider the more he got into it, the more he lost himself in the heat of it all. His breath came out in thick heavy pants against the cool steel. If he weren’t careful, this alone could probably send him over the edge.

Their grip on his dick tightened, just slightly, as if telling him to stop bucking. Jonesy did, and moved closer to the wall just before he felt the hot breath of the stranger tingling against his skin. They left a trail of wet kisses along him, from the base to the tip, each one causing a small shiver up his spine in anticipation. They dragged their tongue up the length of his shaft and made teasing circles around his head. 

A throaty whimper left Jonesy, hungry, desperate. He never would’ve let such a sound out before, but he didn’t care. He _needed_ this. He needed _them_. And with every sloppy, wet kiss they laid on him, he inched closer and closer, as much as he could, his cheek now braced against the metal, chasing them.

They pulled back his foreskin with the fingers wrapped around his base. The now fully exposed head of his cock felt the chilly air conditioning of the mall before the warmth of the stranger’s breath replaced it. A small pearl of precum leaked from his tip and they teased it—teased him—with their tongue. Jonesy could feel his heartbeat in his throat as the stranger finally wrapped their lips around him and he felt the heat of their embrace.

_Holy shit_.

He had gotten head before, but this, this was something else. Not being able to see or touch his partner, it was like all other sensations were sharpened, pinpoint focused on his cock. Everything about it was heightened, like his senses had gone into overload from the deprivation of all else. His eyes squeezed tight, his fists clenched, as every lick, every stroke, every movement sent shockwaves through his whole body. His toes curled as the stranger twisted their head around him, their tongue curling around the tip of his cock. He bit hard against his lip to keep himself from panting like a fucking dog, but it didn’t stop the moans vibrating in the back of his throat.

They must have heard his barely contained ecstasy, as he felt them smile as they held his dick against their cheek. They slapped his dick against their tongue, playfully, teasingly. Jonesy almost chuckled but was promptly shut up when they started sucking once more. Something had changed within them, a hunger almost, as they took his dick into their mouth with an insatiable ferocity. His cock had never felt this hard before, almost painfully so, as it longed for release. 

The stranger kept going farther and farther down his dick with each bob of their head, until their lips reached their own fingers around his base. They nearly choked on his cock—the sound causing his dick to throb—and when they pulled back thick strands of saliva coated his cock. Without missing a beat they wrapped their hand around him and used it to slicken his dick. Whoever this stranger was, Jonesy knew they _wanted_ him, wanted him inside them as much as they could, and it only turned Jonesy on more.

With a hand around him, they began to suck him off and stroke him at the same time. Their lips loose around his dick, kissing their fingers, as they went down in tandem. They drooled as they did so, spit coating his cock with every thrust. He didn’t even try to hide his moans as the stranger’s hands, slick and wet, worked the head of his cock. He white-knuckled gripped the top of the stall wall to keep his knees from buckling under him as the stranger massaged and squeezed his dick in their hands. His eyes rolled back as the pressure in his guts grew and grew until it was almost too much to bear. 

“ _Fuuuuuck_ ,” he growled but it only spurred them on.

They took him back in their mouth, flicking their tongue against his head. He pressed his entire body as close to the divider as he possibly could, leaving no gap not filled. Sweat dripped down the sides of his face, down his back. His hands were shaking even as he held them hard against the metal. Meanwhile their hand twisted around his cock as they stroked it, as they took more and more of him in their mouth. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his fingers in their hair, to put his hand on the back of their head as their lips wrapped around him; as he got closer and closer and the fire burning inside him grew more and more.

Jonesy’s whole body felt aflame. His moans echoed in the empty washroom as he made no attempt to hold them back any longer. His mind, his worries, his self-consciousness… Everything was getting lost in _this_ , in the way their hand grasped him, the way their tongue slid along his shaft, the way their own moans from the back of their throat vibrated against his cock. It was all _so much_.

“Fuck,” he moaned through gritted teeth. He tapped his fist against the metal. “I’m close.”

The stranger showed no signs of letting up as they spat on his cock and worked his head like before. Jonesy felt weak in the knees and leaned into the divider as much as he could as he lost himself into their rhythmic stroking. Every time their fingers rubbed and twisted around the head of his dick he practically whimpered. It was like nothing he had experienced before, made all the more electric by the sensory deprivation of the glory hole. His balls tightened close to his body, the pressure inside him reaching a crescendo. 

“ _Shit_ , I’m gonna come!”

They wrapped their lips around him and kept the pace they had before. Jonesy’s moans came out unimpeded, almost animalistic, as his cock pulsed and throbbed. He bit his lip hard as he thrusted his hips, as he shot load after load down the stranger’s throat. His forehead drenched with sweat, his fists clenched tight, he panted hard against the metal. He could feel as the stranger swallowed every last bit, before running his tongue over his dick once more, an electric current running through Jonesy with each flick.

He finally backed away from the wall, spent, and nearly slumped against the divider behind him. His entire body was shaking, his muscles lightly spasming like they do after an intense workout, like fireworks exploded within him. His head felt light as he tried to catch his breath, as the warmth radiated throughout his whole body. His knees ready to give out at any moment. _Holy fuck_. He had never come like that before—he could still feel the shocks of pleasure all over, like the afterimage of an explosion. If he could see his reflection, he knew it would be plastered with the absolute dopiest dumbass grin he’d ever see. But he couldn’t care less. 

_That was fucking amazing_.

Jonesy looked down at his dick, swollen and slick with saliva. He gripped it hard at the base and stroked upwards, one last bead of come forming at the tip. He walked back over to the glory hole and rested his forehead against the metal as he slid his dick in one last time. A small laugh escaped him as he felt the stranger’s warm hands, as they gave the tip one last kiss.

He stood back from the wall and reluctantly tucked his dick back into his pants. Jonesy watched the glory hole, waiting, but nothing ever came. He couldn’t see anyone through it from where he stood, and if they were expecting for the favour to be returned, they didn’t show it. 

He zipped up his pants. “Uh…,” he stammered, unsure of the proper custom here. “…Thank you?”

Jonesy waited for a response. Nothing. And so, he slowly began to fall back into reality.

The sounds of the bathroom that had become little more than white noise filtered in. The A/C. The hum of mall goers just outside the washroom walls. The PA system announcing the mall was closing soon. He lifted the broken door of the stall carefully and made his way to the exit—

his body still tingling in afterglow.

* * *

_“Psst! Wyatt!”_

Jonesy hid behind the Lemon. With only thirty minutes until the mall closed, he was cutting his deadline real close on reporting back to Ron, but he had to tell someone about what the fuck just happened to him. And Wyatt was the first one he saw after exiting the bathroom, so, he was currently trying to get his attention by throwing complimentary straws at him from a distance.

“Wyatt!” he yelled, having lost his patience for subtlety, as he launched a straw that beamed Wyatt square in the head.

“What the—” Wyatt turned around as he rubbed the back of his head. “Jonesy?”

Jonesy frantically beckoned him over with his hands. Wyatt rolled his eyes and got up from his seat by the Lemon. They walked a few steps away from the food court, for maximum privacy. 

“What’s going on, Jonesy? You’re practically giddy.”

“Dude, I just had the best blowjob of my entire life!” Jonesy said, a little too loudly as he triumphantly rose his arms in celebration. He couldn’t help it.

“What?! Like, just now?”

“Yeah, man! That ‘unsavoury rumour’? Get this: it’s a glory hole, dude!”

“A glory hole? Wait, those are real?”

Jonesy playfully elbowed him. “You watch the vids, too, eh?”

Wyatt’s cheeks immediately burned. “No! I mean… maybe. I mean, sometimes! They just come up and I get curious, okay?” He looked away, trying to downplay the very obvious blush in his cheeks. “Wait, hold on… You found a Glory Hole in the Loathsome Washrooms… and you actually _used it_?”

“Hell yeah, dude! You think I was gonna pass on the chance to get my dick sucked with zero commitments?” Jonesy puffed out his chest in bravado.

“Okay, okay,” Wyatt had started to say the minute Jonesy started mentioned his dick. He really didn’t need to hear the details. It was just hard to wrap his head around the fact that not only was there an actual _glory hole_ at their mall, but that one of his best friends literally just used it minutes ago. “Wait,” he said, the realization beginning to dawn on him, “this was in the Loathsome Washrooms.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Those are Men’s Washrooms, Jonesy.”

“What’s your point?”

“Wouldn’t that mean that the person on the other side was… you know… a _guy_?”

Jonesy’s eyes widened. That hadn’t dawned on him at all. He hadn’t even thought of who was on the other side much less if they were guy or a girl. He kind of just assumed it had to be a girl, right? “No, no, no,” he said, “it had to have been a girl.”

“Why would there be a girl in the men’s room?”

Jonesy stammered. “She, uh, she must have seen me go in there to investigate it and followed me in.”

“Um…”

“It was a chick alright. I could tell.”

“Uh-huh…” Wyatt wasn’t convinced, but he could also tell that it was paramount to Jonesy’s mental state at the moment for him to, at the very least, play along. “Maybe you’re right,” he said. “Maybe a girl did follow you in.” He was barely selling it, and he knew it, but it seemed to give Jonesy something to hang his denial on.

“Exactly,” Jonesy said. “I mean, what girl would be able to resist all this?” He grabbed his package for emphasis.

“Okay, stop,” Wyatt said, looking away. “I believe you, okay?” 

He shook his head. It was just so wild to think that all of this was going down and he was sitting just a few feet away at the Food Court table the whole time. “It really was that good?”

“I fucking saw stars, man,” Jonesy said, a dumbass grin plastered from cheek to cheek. “I’m _still_ feeling it.”

Wyatt chuckled. “What are you going to do now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you found out what the rumour was. Shouldn’t you report back to Ron? You’re almost out of time.”

“Shit, you’re right,” Jonesy said. He considered his next moves. “I mean, it’s not like there is an actual culprit to find, right? Like it’s just a hole. Anyone could have set it up, and anyone could be using it now. There’s not, like, one person to try and track down.”

“So…?”

“So if I tell Ron, all he’s gonna do is get it fixed, right? Maybe even convince the Mall to pay for new cameras outside the washroom to try and catch people.”

“And you don’t want that?”

“I don’t think so…” 

If that were to happen, he’d never get to use the glory hole again. He’d probably never find out who gave him the best head of his existence either. But, more than that… would it be putting people at risk if he ratted it out to Ron? What if people used it because they had no choice, like, if they used it to connect with people they couldn’t in person. Like, people in the closet, or whatever. Telling Ron, and getting the cameras fixed, it could harm people. And was it really hurting anyone for it to be there? You couldn’t find it unless you knew it was there.

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Jonesy said more firmly. “I ain’t giving up the best head of my life for this mall.”

“But if you don’t, Ron’s going to fire you, Jonesy.”

Shit. He was right. Gahhhh. Why couldn’t he keep his job _and_ his gateway to great sex? Talk about unfair. Still, it was something he had to really think about. His earlier gripes about the job aside, it was still one of the best jobs he ever had. And he did need to keep it. His credit card bills were insane, and his resumé really couldn’t take the hit of another job he was fired from.

“Fuck,” Jonesy said, defeated. “I _need_ the job. Do I really have to decide right now?”

As if answering his call, the Mall’s PA system kicked in. Fifteen minutes to closing.

 _Goddammit_.

* * *

Ron checked his watch when Jonesy entered the Rent-a-Cop offices. “Cutting it close to the wire, Hound Dog,” he said, as grave and serious as ever. He stood up from his desk and walked over to him. He studied the boy in front of him, nervously scratching at his arm. His eyes narrowed. “Well?”

“It was a tricky case,” Jonesy said, not making eye contact. He was looking over at his desk, still covered in paperwork. On the monitors he could make out the still broken camera feed outside the Loathsome Washrooms. Had they been working, he could have gone through the footage and found the person who was on the other side of his encounter. But then, so could Ron. So could anyone.

“What’s your report soldier? Did you apprehend the perpetrators or not?”

Jonesy took a deep breath, and then looked Ron straight in the eye. “No, sir. The trail’s run cold. There’s nothing to find.”

Ron didn’t blink, just watched him with that same cold detached look. “You’re positive?”

“I asked around. I investigated. I staked out the washroom. It was just an empty rumour.”

They didn’t break eye contact. Jonesy, doing his best to sound confident, firm, certain. Ron, inscrutable as ever. Over the PA came the announcement that the mall had now closed for the night, and to please make your way to the exit. Outside the office they could hear the sound of what shoppers remained idly making their way out. After a moment, Ron finally spoke.

“I’m disappointed in you, soldier,” he said. “I really thought you could’ve been the one, my partner in arms fighting in the trenches of this Mall, keeping the peace. But you never outgrew your dishonourable troublemaker beginnings, I see.”

“What? I’m telling the truth!”

“Mhm.” Ron crossed his arms. “You’re fired.”

“C’mon, Smokey! Who cares about some stupid rumour, I can still help,” Jonesy reasoned. “I thought I was your Hound Dog.”

“Now you’re just a maggot like the rest of them,” Ron replied coldly. “I’ll have your security belt back.”

Jonesy reluctantly took off his belt and handed it to him.

“I’ll have your hat back.”

He sighed and passed him the hat.

“I’ll have your uniform back.”

“Hey!”

“Now, soldier. Now!”

Jonesy grumbled as he kicked off his shoes and undid his belt and pants. He unbuttoned his uniform and chucked it into Ron’s open arms. Then he took off his pants and threw them into a bundle. Ron placed the uniform, belt and hat onto his desk and then grabbed Jonesy’s street clothes and shoes from the locker and shoved them into his arms and kicked him out the door.

The door to the Rent-a-Cop offices slammed and locked behind him. Jonesy bristled at the cool air of the Mall’s A/C wearing nothing but his boxers and socks. Luckily for him the mall was mostly deserted now so the public humiliation aspect of this firing was thankfully kept to a minimum. Not that it helped much.

His clothes balled up in his arms, he slumped against the nearby wall, and slid down onto the floor. Did he do the right thing for himself by refusing to tell Ron about the glory hole? He got fired, again. Now he would have to worry about hunting for a new job, about the hit his resumé would take, about the fact that his bank account would likely go into overdraft if he tried to pay the minimum on his credit card bills. A giant avalanche of suck was about to hit him real soon. Jonesy let out pained sigh.

He grabbed his shirt from the mess of clothes in his arms. As he put it on he thought about the way the stranger’s hands felt against his skin. He stuck his legs into his jeans and shimmied them over his hips. Thought about the way their tongue ran along his shaft, the way their lips wrapped around him. He slipped his shoes on and began retying their laces. Thought about the way his toes curled, the way his whole body shook as he came. He stood up and dusted himself off.

Jonesy glanced over at the Food Court where he could just make out the Loathsome Washrooms off in the distance and thought about the chance to cross paths with them again. Behind him he could see Ron at his desk through the glass door, their gazes met. He rolled his eyes, flipped Ron off and headed for the mall exit, a smile curling on his lips.

_Yeah, it was worth it._


	2. (THE OTHER SIDE)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long. When I originally posted the first part, I was picturing writing and posting this second part within a couple of weeks. But for whatever reason, writing this second part has been one of the more difficult things for me to do, and I'm not even totally sure why. Regardless though, here it is. I hope you like it! I'm very new to writing these kinds of stories, so let me know what you think.
> 
> Disclaimer: All Major Characters Depicted in This Work of Fiction are Over the Age of 18.

Jude hoped there was more than this.

Every day the same routine. He’d come to the mall, talk idly with his friends, do his best to suppress the ever-present feelings he held, and then go to work where he helped the same customers, made the same food and wasted the same time. Every night would go the same way, too. He’d start closing down Stick-It, following the procedures listed in the same order. He didn’t even have to think about it anymore, it had become so ingrained in him. Cashing out the till, filing the receipts, sweeping the floors, cleaning out the grill and food bins, washing the instruments, turning out the lights, locking up the store, heading home where he spent his evenings getting high and watching the same TV shows on Netflix again and again. Over and over. Rinse. Repeat. 

Was this what being an adult was like? He’d only had a taste of it, being eighteen, but if so, it fucking blew. Somehow it felt even more monotonous than school had.

Jude found himself stuck in the rhythm of such a night. He barely had any customers that day and spent most of the time fooling around on his phone. The end of his shift didn’t even bring excitement to him anymore. It no longer felt freeing, but just yet another step in his day. With no fanfare, he went about crossing things off the end of day list one after another.

After finishing everything inside, he walked out around Stick-It to the front cash. All that he needed to do now was lock up and then he’d be free to go home alone, get high alone, watch shows alone, fall asleep alone. Great.

He jumped up and grabbed the handle of the metal anti-theft grate above the counter. The loud clank of the metal gears turning dulled in his ears. As he pulled it down, he looked out toward the Food Court and absentmindedly wondered whether his friends were still hanging around. That’s when he saw him.

Jonesy.

He was standing outside the Loathsome Washrooms in his cute Rent-a-Cop outfit. His hand on the flashlight in his holster, he scanned the area left and right in almost dramatic movements. Jonesy never was one for subtlety. After making sure the coast was clear, and presumably that he wasn’t being watched (big fail on that part), he ducked into the washrooms, the doors closing behind him with a thud.

Jude was smiling like a dope. He couldn’t help it. Seeing Jonesy all dressed up in his Rent-a-Cop uniform, pretending to be sneaky. His eyes had lingered on his friend’s ass, which always looked good, but somehow looked even better in uniform. Every time he saw Jonesy or was around him he felt lighter than before. At least at first, until he remembered that Jonesy would never feel the same way about him. Then his heart would feel heavy and his bones would feel tired, and the only way he could forget about it for a moment was by getting high.

He wasn’t sure when exactly he started to have feelings for Jonesy. Part of him thought maybe they had always been there, slowly growing over time with every shared laugh or touch or sleepover. When they had accidentally shared a kiss a while back when he asked for advice on how to make out with girls… something changed within him. What was always there couldn’t be denied anymore.

But just because he knew it was there, and was able to put words to it now, didn’t mean anything would change. Jonesy was straight. Jude was Jude. They were friends, best friends. That would have to be enough.

And so he pushed the feelings down, as far as they would go. The weed helped, but not by much. It was a band-aid placed over an open wound. He bled all the same.

Jude sighed. He’d get over it one day. He’d have to. For now, he was okay with a little pain, if it meant being with Jonesy, even just as friends. That’s what he told himself anyway after watching Jonesy disappear into the Loathsome Washrooms. He pulled down the metal anti-theft gate to the ground and locked it with his keys. Since he was off, he might as well help Jonesy track down this rumour, right? 

You know, like friends do.

* * *

When Jude entered the Loathsome Washrooms, he was surprised to find it empty. Or at least, it seemed empty: Jonesy was nowhere to be found. He looked around the room a bit and was about to call out his name when he saw Jonesy’s shoes behind the broken stall door. That was the same stall Jude and his dealer always used when they negotiated his discount. Wait… did that mean Jonesy knew about the hole in the wall there? Was _that_ what all this was about?

Jude walked over to the stall next to Jonesy, the one he would always use during their “negotiations”. He jiggled the handle but it was locked, like usual. He dug into his pocket and pulled out his Stick-It keys. Once he hooked the side of his keys into the dial of the lock, one twist and the stall door opened.

As soon as he entered, he caught a glimpse of it, poking out of the hole in the wall. Jonesy’s dick. Holy fucking shit, man! He quickly stepped inside and touched Jonesy through the hole, just a bit. Jonesy had begun to pull away when he heard him enter, but he stopped when he felt Jude’s fingers wrap loosely by the head of his dick.

Jude swallowed hard. His skin tingled alert, hair on end. His heart rattled and shook in his throat as he froze in place. Jonesy was on the other side of the wall, and with it, his fully exposed dick. He couldn’t believe it. He had thought about this moment for so long, dreamt about it, jerked off to the idea of it, and now it was so close to being reality. Was it right for him to be here, seeing this? Jonesy had put himself through the hole for anyone on the other side to see, but that didn’t really mean he’d have done it if he knew Jude was the one that’d see it…

Still. He couldn’t stop himself, not now. Not when he was so close to actually being with Jonesy, even if it was just through a wall. Even if it was as strangers. There was no way he could turn away from it now. He had to know.

Jude hooked his foot under the legs of the small stool inside the stall and carefully pulled it closer to him. After the third or fourth time doing this with his dealer, Jude snuck the stool into the janitorial stall himself because spending all that time with your knees on the hard bathroom floor fucking sucked. Ever since, it’s been a goddamn blessing to have. 

He slowly lowered himself down onto the stool, careful not to let go of Jonesy’s dick as he did so. It’s not that he was physically keeping him there or anything—his grip was soft and light—but he worried if he ever let go completely Jonesy would change his mind and pull away and that was the last thing he wanted. Aside from the head, only about an inch or so of Jonesy’s dick was poking through the hole. Had Jude not touched him, he knew none of this would be happening. For now, he teased his cock softly, gently, hoping to coax him into staying.

It seemed to work, as after a beat, Jonesy stepped forward and with it, the full length of his cock came into view. Jude could hardly believe it. Jonesy’s cock was the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen. He had caught glimpses of Jonesy naked before, it was hard not to since Jonesy frequently found himself exposed for some reason or another, but he had only ever seen him soft. Try as he might to imagine what Jonesy looked like hard (and boy did he try, almost every night), nothing in his imagination came close to the marvel in front of him now.

Jonesy’s uncut dick jutted forth from the hole, straight, hard and confident. It was decently thick, although not quite as thick as Jude’s, but it more than made up for it in length. It was almost uniform in its width aside from a slight bulge in the shaft midway down. Two large veins ran parallel down the center of the shaft under Jonesy’s tanned skin before veering off and curving around the side. Jude cursed under his breath and he gripped his own cock, already thick and hard in his board shorts from the moment he saw it.

The thing he had been fantasizing about for god knows how long was not only more beautiful than he could have imagined, it was also _real_. He had pictured it in so many ways, but he did so based on what he saw in porn vids or models. This was different. This was _Jonesy_. It was every bit a unique part of Jonesy as the way he smirked, as the way his laughter made Jude blush, as the way he looked at you with those deep brown eyes. It was so much more than any fantasy could ever have done justice. It was so achingly familiar.

Jonesy’s hard cock was in his hands and he could feel the warmth of it against his palm as he stroked it, could trace the veins with his fingertips, could watch the way his foreskin glided over the head. This was all actually happening. His mouth watered the more he marveled at it, and with it, an insatiable craving grew. 

Jude wanted nothing more than to have it inside him, to feel Jonesy’s dick against his tongue, feel it press against the inside of his cheek. To _know_ the way every curve and ridge would feel thrusting into his mouth. To taste him, finally, after wanting for so long. But he had to be careful. He couldn’t risk going too hard, too fast and scaring him off. He needed to wait, just a little longer. 

He kept stroking Jonesy carefully, the whole time his heart in his throat. Everything felt so surreal, on edge, as if any moment now, at any turn, he could jolt awake and all of this was yet another dream. It was hard for him to believe this was happening, that he really was here in this stall, Jonesy’s dick in his palm, a few inches of metal all that stood between them. Part of him hated that divider, hated being so close and yet so far from Jonesy, but the other part knew that if it weren’t there—if Jonesy could see just who was on the other side—likely none of this would be happening at all. A pang of guilt twisted inside Jude.

Was it right for him to be there? He kept returning to that question. As much as he wanted to try and convince himself otherwise, he knew deep down that if the divider were gone, they wouldn’t be doing this. At the same time though, Jonesy used the glory hole knowing that _anyone_ could be the person servicing him, didn’t he? Was it really so wrong for Jude to be the one on the other side?

Jude was about to pull away, guilt getting the better of him, when Jonesy started bucking his hips into Jude’s hand. His cock rubbed against his palm again and again, hips tapping the divider, and that’s when it became clear to Jude that not only had Jude wanted him, but Jonesy wanted Jude, too. And that realization made Jude’s cock ache.

He couldn’t take it anymore. As quiet as he could, Jude started to unzip the fly on his board shorts. Jonesy still thrusting into his hand, Jude reached in and freed his own cock from the increasingly tight restraints of his white boxer-briefs. The cool air of the mall A/C was almost refreshing against the exposed skin of his dick, and a small smile curled his lips.

He had started to stroke himself when Jonesy picked up the pace, thrusting even harder and faster into his hand, hips smacking against the stall. Jude scooted the stool closer to the glory hole and wrapped his left hand loosely around the base of Jonesy’s cock while he stroked it with the right. His own dick would have to wait. 

The more Jonesy rocked forth into his hands—the more he could hear Jonesy’s heavy pants against the wall—the harder and harder it was to resist him. It was no longer just a want, but a _need_. Like the way fish needed water, the way plants needed sunlight, the way humans needed air. Jude _needed_ Jonesy inside him.

He couldn’t wait any longer, but with Jonesy bucking wildly, it’d be hard to start going down on him. Jude opened his mouth to say something, only to realize that if he spoke Jonesy would figure out who he was and everything would end. He needed to think of some other way to signal to Jonesy to slow down. The only thing he could think of was to grip a little tighter with the hand around his base and hope Jonesy would figure it out without him having to say a word. Thankfully, not soon after, Jonesy stopped thrusting and Jude couldn’t help but smile.

Jude inched closer to Jonesy’s cock, his warm breath against the skin. He could hardly believe this was real. Jonesy here with him, exposed and intimate. It was a strange thing, feeling like they were the closest they had ever been before, even managing to communicate without a word, and yet still feel so far apart. It wasn’t exactly what Jude wanted—what he really wanted was to be with him, no anonymity, no secrets, no walls—but he knew this was the closest he’d ever get to that. And he couldn’t take it anymore, he couldn’t keep holding back. If this was as close as he could get to love and to a relationship, he’d take it every time.

Jude closed the distance and kissed Jonesy at the base. It wasn’t what he imagined their first kiss to be like, not at all, but it was all he had. He kissed him again, and again, a trail of wet sloppy desperate kisses against the skin. Jonesy was pressed against his cheek, so impossibly warm and hard, as Jude kissed up along his shaft.

When he reached the head, he stopped and held back. Instead he ran his tongue up the length before teasing circles around the tip. His cock throbbed at the sound of a throaty whimper escaping Jonesy and he couldn’t keep himself from smiling as he stroked him a few times, hoping to coax a few more moans from his best friend’s lips. 

He pulled back the foreskin on Jonesy’s dick, precum leaking from the tip. Jude teased it with his tongue before wrapping his lips around the head. This was it. Jonesy’s beautiful hard cock was inside his mouth, inside _him_. He closed his eyes as he rubbed his tongue against it, as he pressed it to the inside of his cheek. 

How many times had he fantasized about this moment? Thought about it in the dead of night when he couldn’t sleep after another boring routine day had passed? Part of him cracked a little, knowing it wasn’t like how he pictured. None of his fantasies had a wall between them like this. But still… he was here, with Jonesy, in this moment.

He opened his eyes and looked at the steel stall divider in front of him. Jude tried to picture it, tried to imagine what Jonesy looked like on the other side, the way he bit his lip, the way he closed his eyes, the way he braced his hand up against the wall. With one hand held around Jonesy’s cock, he reached out with his free hand and put it against the divider where he imagined Jonesy’s hand to be. It was cold to the touch. It’d have to be good enough.

While he continued to go down on him, Jude delighted in the way that every little change he made resulted in a reaction from Jonesy on the other side, even if he couldn’t see it. When he picked up speed, when he added a twist to his movement, Jonesy would react in turn, panting and moaning under his breath. Circling his tongue around the head, Jonesy cursed, unable to contain himself—a nice throaty “ _fuuuck_ ” igniting a hunger deep within Jude.

He smiled, Jonesy’s dick pressed against his cheek. With his mouth open, he playfully slapped his dick against his tongue, each wet smack building a desperate desire in him to take it even further. Without warning, Jude went down hard on Jonesy. With each bob of his head, he reached father and farther down his shaft. When his lips touch the base, Jonesy’s length full inside, he nearly choked on it.

Jude pulled back, gasping for air, thick strands of saliva draping from his lips to Jonesy’s cock. Without missing a beat, he stroked him, rubbing the saliva up and down the shaft, nice and wet. Jonesy reacted almost instantly, another moan acting as percussion against the hum of the Mall’s A/C. It only spurred Jude on.

His lips loose around Jonesy, Jude went down on him again, drooling as he did. With one hand close to his mouth, he stroked with each downward movement, coating him completely in his thirst. His cock now slick, Jude massaged the head, fingers rubbing and gently squeezing it in his palm. Jonesy’s moans crescendoed. He gripped the top of the stall, hard, knuckles white.

“ _Fuuuuuck_ ,” Jonesy growled behind the wall.

Jude’s cock, long neglected, oozed precum onto the bathroom floor at the sights and sounds of Jonesy collapsing into pleasure at his hand. But Jude wanted more. He needed Jonesy to be made completely undone. He needed to taste him, to feel him shudder.

Lips wrapped around Jonesy again, Jude gave it his everything. He rubbed his tongue against the head with deliberate focus as he twisted and stroked. Jude began to sweat, droplets rolling down the sides of his temple. But he didn’t care. He’s so turned on, so desperate himself, that he moaned hard in the back of his throat, muffled by his best friend’s cock. Over and over again.

Try as he might, Jude couldn’t hold back anymore. With his free hand, Jude grabbed his own cock and started stroking himself as he continued to devour Jonesy. The pressure rose within him while he cursed this fucking wall for being between them. He wanted nothing more than to feel Jonesy’s hands on the back of his head, pushing him down. Wanted to grip his ass in his palms as he buried himself into Jonesy’s crotch. Wanted to actually be together.

Jonesy’s moans echoed in the bathroom, all of it aflame.

“Fuck.” Jonesy tapped his fist against the metal. “I’m close.”

Jude didn’t let up. He spat on Jonesy’s cock and worked the head like before. Letting go of his own dick, he grabbed hold of Jonesy’s, firm, foreskin held back, head exposed, as his other hand massaged and rubbed him closer and closer to the edge.

Jonesy leaned into the divider, his hips as flush with the wall as they could be. Jude watched through the glory hole as Jonesy’s balls tightened close to his body. Heard him whimper with every twist of his fingers around his cock. He nearly came himself when he heard Jonesy, voice shaky and hot, yell the words he never once thought he’d actually hear outside his imagination:

“ _Shit_ , I’m gonna come!”

Jude threw himself onto Jonesy’s cock, taking him back into his mouth. Jonesy moaned and growled like a fucking animal as Jude worked him like he needed this to keep on living. 

And then he felt it. 

Jonesy’s cock throbbed and pulsed inside him, as load after load shot down Jude’s throat. Jonesy trembled, moans slewing forth unimpeded. Tears welled up in Jude’s eyes; the taste of his best friend, his warmth, on his tongue and down his throat. He held the come in his mouth, just for a moment, before swallowing every last drop. He ran his tongue over Jonesy’s dick and lapped up what more he could, wasting nothing.

His best friend came inside him. He had imagined it so many times before this, and yet nothing could compare to it. The sensation of his hard cock erupting in his mouth. The salty taste on his tongue. The way the warmth spread down his throat. The pure pleasure he heard in Jonesy’s voice—pleasure _he_ had caused.

It was so much more than any fantasy.

It was real.

With an elated sigh, Jonesy backed away from the stall. His dick disappeared through the glory hole. And just like that, it was over. 

Jude hid and leaned away from the opening, just in case Jonesy tried to see him through it. He grabbed his still aching hard cock in his hands and could feel the blood through it. His heart pounded as he watched the opening for any signs of movement, as reality slowly started to creep back in.

Jonesy threaded his dick back through the hole. At its very tip, a small final pearl of come had formed. Jude smiled. He held Jonesy’s dick in his hand and gave it one last kiss. On the other side he heard a small laugh from Jonesy and a soft familiar comfort welled within him. It was so… normal, yet intimate. It was him and his best friend, and within that tiny little gesture was this irreplaceable feeling that they _could_ have been together. Perhaps not in this life. But maybe so.

Jonesy stepped away again and Jude retreated as well.

The sound of Jonesy’s fly being zipped up nearly echoed.

A haunted empty silence filled the Loathsome Washrooms as they both waited for something, anything, to happen. Jude’s heart thrashed in his chest. Should he step forward, reveal himself, or not? Would the truth of who he was be embraced? Or would it ruin everything? Had he done something terrible by doing this? Was it wrong what he had done? He didn’t know.

He started to doubt himself, to doubt the moment entirely, when he heard Jonesy.

“Uh…,” Jonesy stammered from the other side. “…Thank you?”

Jude opened his mouth to respond, to say something, anything, but nothing came out. He touched the cold steel divider and pictured Jonesy’s hand opposite of his, only to hear Jonesy lift up the broken stall door and start to leave. The mall’s PA system kicked in. They were closing soon. The doors to the Loathsome Washrooms swung open, and then, shut.

He slumped against the makeshift janitorial cupboard behind him. The bottles of cleaner rocked inside as he finally let himself breathe. Running his tongue along the inside of his mouth, the taste of Jonesy lingered. 

Jude peered down at his still hard cock jutting forth from the fly of his board shorts. He gripped it firm in his hand and stroked it as he replayed everything that had just happened. He’d seen his best friend’s dick. Tasted it. Heard the way Jonesy sounded when he moaned, when he came. Saw the way his knuckles went white as he clenched and shuddered against Jude’s tongue.

It didn’t take much for Jude to finish himself off. He had practically been edged the entire time. But the thing that pushed him over wasn’t a memory of what had just transpired, but the idea that one day this would lead to a world where they could really be together. He sat there, his own come dripping from his fingers, sighing in the afterglow, as he imagined one day being able to walk through the mall with Jonesy, hand in hand.

It would probably never come to pass. But it was pretty to think so.

Reality crept back in and Jude cleaned himself off. He reached under the divider and grabbed the laminated flyer that had come loose from the glory hole. After taping it back up over the hole, he left the janitorial stall. Outside the broken stall, he carefully lifted the door and let himself in.

It was strange being on the other side. He tried to picture Jonesy there, how he must have looked pressed up against the wall, the way his cheeks would’ve been flushed, the way Jude made him feel so good. He smiled, but he knew deep down it was just another fantasy. There would be no way of ever knowing how Jonesy actually looked or acted that night. There would always be a wall.

Jude picked up the toilet paper dispenser off the back of the toilet tank and clicked it back onto the stall divider. He did his best to clean up any mess that was left behind from their encounter. The PA system kicked in again, fifteen minutes to closing. When he reached for the handle of the Loathsome Washroom’s exit, he turned back and faced the broken stall.

* * *

As Jude made his way to the mall exit, he walked past the Rent-a-Cop offices. He could see inside Jonesy, still decked out in his cute as hell officer uniform, addressing the living buzz-kill Ron. Jude watched Jonesy through the glass divider and felt both so close and so far from him. He looked back at the Food Court, where he could make out the Loathsome Washrooms off in the distance and thought about the chance for them to cross paths there again.

Maybe he and Jonesy could never be together like he wanted. Maybe there would always be a wall between them. Maybe this would become their new normal. Or maybe, one day, he’ll know what it meant to _truly_ be with Jonesy, to feel his hand in his, and he’ll look back at this moment with disbelief that he ever doubted them. He didn’t know for sure what would happen. No one could ever really know. Anything could change in the course of an ordinary routine day.

With a smile, Jude turned and headed for the Mall exit, hopeful for whatever tomorrow might bring.

_There could always be something more._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment/kudos. I'm new to writing these kinds of stories but I'd like to keep at it and improve.


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